Anything
by newxyorkxloser
Summary: One shott :D "Kissing Sam was soft and sweet and tasted a little bit like ham. Which was good, right? Sam liked ham, and you liked Sam." CarlyxSam


. This has been in my head for sooo long! I just hadda write it.. Popping the iCarly cherry o

..When I say sooo long, I really mean about 3 days, but.. Oh well! :3 Enjoy!

..

Well, don't hate it _too_ much.

--

Kissing Sam was so completely different than kissing anybody else that it was absolutely mind-boggling. Most people seemed to, no matter how hard they tried, always taste like crap, and end up drooling all over your mouth, and then finish by choking you to death with their disgusting, slimy tongues. The most amazing part was that they somehow had the nerve to actually ask, "Babe, is something wrong?" when you pulled away and wiped your mouth, before grabbing your purse and preparing to storm off.

No, kissing Sam was nothing like all of those awful attempts at making out made by zit faced, ugly, stupid, horny boys. Kissing Sam was soft and sweet and tasted a little bit like ham. Which was good, right? Sam liked ham, and you liked Sam. Ham reminded you of Sam, even in times like this, when you really couldn't possibly need to be reminded of Sam any less. After all, you were sitting (okay, standing) there with your arms around her neck, your tongue in her mouth. It wasn't like you were going to forget about her or something.

It didn't seem strange at all when she didn't pull back at first, and even pulled you in closer to her, her tongue moving against yours. No, that didn't seem strange at all; quite the opposite, actually. It felt normal. So much more normal than when any one of those disgusting men ever tried to hold you or touch you, which had just felt so completely and totally _wrong_. Not even wrong in the purity sense, since that'd left you long ago, but just _wrong_ like the way that 2 + 2 equals 3 was wrong. It was wrong simply by the laws that were set up by god knows who, and no matter how hard you tried to rebel and argue that 2 + 2 actually did equal 3, you'd still be wrong (and you'd probably end up failing your next math test)

So, yes, you did know what wrong felt like. Wrong could be found in the 'loving' arms of just about every stupid teenage boy in this whole stupid school. Wrong could be found in the special ed. classroom during a spelling test. Wrong could be found in a drug addict's needle, begging for just one more rush from the one thing that still had love to offer. But no, you'd never felt right. Never had you felt something so right as your body pressed against Sam's, even if it was up against the wall of the 1st floor girl's bathroom in the middle of 7th period, right next to the cafeteria. As right as her hands shyly, tentatively wrapped around your waist while you shoved your tongue past her lips and prayed to whatever god had allowed this to happen to let it stay for as long as it possibly could. No, you'd never felt something this right before.

But, of course, you did know wrong, and you felt wrong creeping back as she pushed you softly away from her, and despite how red her face was and how her hand was still only inches away from your ass, assured you that, "I can't do this Carly.." even though by the way she'd been pushing her tongue against yours, you were pretty sure that she actually did want to. Not as much as you needed that feeling in the pit of your stomach when she'd touched you in something that hinted more than just friendship.

And it was that touch that made you whisper, voice laden with almost as much guilt as there was lust, "Please.." because you knew that she really had liked it, and she must've just been scared. Scared? Sam, scared? You really have gone crazy now, haven't you? She must think that you're some horny little stupid dyke with some stupid little horny dyke crush on her. Or worse, maybe she doesn't even think that you like her. Maybe she just thinks that you're some stupid little horny dyke and you think that because she's your best friend, you'll get some from her if you ask in _just_ the right tone, because after all, best friends are supposed to do anything for you.

Of course, the moment after that, you snapped out of it and leaned against the opposite stall wall, letting your neck crane upward while you rubbed your temples, closing your eyes as you sighed. God fucking damnnit, what did you just do? You can't help but want to cry as you realize what a stupid thing you just did, and what you could've just ruined. You could've played truth or dare and tested the waters, you could've gotten drunk and if she didn't like what you had to say, she wouldn't remember it the next day anyway. Anything, _anything_. There were so many choices, so why in god's name did you have to drag her into a bathroom stall and kiss her like that?

"I wonder what they put in the tacos today." Of all the things she could've said, she just had to pick the one about food (or in the case of what the school cafeteria served, strange, trash smelling goop that was spray painted different colors each day and fed to the poor students) And then she grinned at you, grabbed your hand and dragged you back out into the world of hundreds of bodies pressed against each other, where the feeling of hers against yours wasn't nearly as special anymore, into the world of gossip and lies and "Ohmygosh, he is _so_ hot."

She didn't say a single word about what'd just happened. You guessed that it was one of those forgive and forget type things.

--

It'd been a week and a half, and now she was curled up on your couch next to you, arms wrapped around your own and her head snuggled into your shoulder, strands of her blonde hair reaching out like arms and just barely tickling your skin, your heart beating in leaps and bounds as she squealed and pulled you closer to her, hiding her face in your chest. Oh, god how you hoped that she couldn't hear just how hard your heart was beating.

Of course, if she did notice, she might figure that it was the guy on t.v. getting an eye stabbed out, before he was ripped apart limb by limb. Yeah, you'll blame it all on the horror movie.

You can't help but lean your head against hers while she shakes in exaggerated fear, and you can't help but run your hands through her hair, which smells like a garden in the middle of summer. You don't even let the thought that she's replaying the week before in her head, and wondering just what's going through _your_ head right now, and how little clothing she must be wearing.

And it's that thought that makes you so frustrated, because everybody thinks that it's so wrong for you to like a girl, but you don't see anything wrong with it. You're so much better than all of the guys that stare after her, thinking about nothing but how long it might take to get into her pants. You just can't understand how people are perfectly tolerant of people like that, but somebody like you, who honestly just wants to love her, is something filthy.

The first time Sam kissed you was even better than the first time you kissed her. One minute, you were curled up with her watching horror movies, wondering if she thought that you were disgusting, and the next she'd pulled you on top of her, her hand on the back of your head, your lips so close that you could taste her breath, and this time it tasted vaguely of sour patch kids, the empty box of which had been thrown god knows where about fifteen minutes ago. Her hand rested firmly in it's place, holding your lips just inches away from hers, and it was all you could do to just lie there, hands on both sides of her head, holding yourself up in the dark room, the t.v. flashing behind you, casting all of the strangest shadows on both your faces. You were too scared to let your head fall even an inch, in case you'd read the situation all wrong, and kissing her once was more than enough and it was a miracle that she was still your friend as it was and don't you push it anymore Carly.

But she didn't want one of the strange scenarios that were playing through your head as to why she would've pulled you on top of her, and she made that absolutely clear when she pulled your head further down and send your lips crashing onto hers, the taste of sour patch kids filling your mouth as your elbows buckled and left you laying completely on top of her, your bodies pressed together , while her tongue pushed it's way into your willing mouth.

And, oh god, how you wished there was some way to show her everything going through your head right now, all the things you were feeling and that she was making you feel, but you couldn't think of any way to so you just kissed her back, your hands in her hair, the smell of which drove you absolutely crazy, your chest swelling and your stomach fluttering excitedly. Oh, the things you wish you could do to that girl.. But no, don't think about that. Don't think about that, just kiss her. Kiss her because this time she's the one admitting something, and this time she's the one throwing herself down and relying on you to catch her, and that in itself is amazing enough without asking for anything more.

There it was again, that feeling that no matter how wrong everybody else in the world thought that you and her and this entire thing was, you knew that you were right. That this was right, and that sitting here on the couch with the cable box across the room now reading 2:37 in bright shining green numbers, with Sam lying under you, holding your lips to hers as though her entire life relied on you just kissing her for another moment. That her tongue in your mouth and one of her hands making it's way down your body was right. So much more right than somebody who'd never been here could ever possibly dream of knowing.

And this time it was you who pulled away from her, even if it was just for a moment, Oh, god, the look in her eyes when your lips were away from hers. It looked as though you'd just taken all of her dreams, coated them in gasoline and lit a match. It looked as if her whole world were ending, and you've never seen Sam's face go through so many different emotions so quickly. All she could muster the strength to say was a simple, choked, "Carly.." and her voice cracked twice, her normally strong voice weak and fragile as she looked up at you, begging for just the same thing you'd begged for from her a week and a half ago. Her eyes begged for you to love her the way that she loved her, for you to just take everything that was so wrong about her life and kiss her until none of it mattered anymore.

For once, a request that you could happily comply to. You grinned at her, and she realized that maybe you'd be somebody who wouldn't hurt her, as you captured her lips with yours for a second time, and all the same feelings came back again.

Her lips were soft like silk, but nothing like the fabric. Her lips were describable only in that they were completely indescribable. Her kiss was gentle; hesitant, as though she were scared to give you too much, in case you'd take it and run off, never to be seen again. Of course, if you were here with her the way that you were, she had to have already given you _something_ and trusted you enough not to abandon her or take that piece of her and never give it back again.

But you knew that you would never do that; you would never leave her, would never hurt her, would never stand by while anybody else dared to lay a hand on her.

And so you kissed her.

She pulled back again at 2:54, and smiled sheepishly at you as she pushed herself up on the couch, so that her head was angled upward and your head now lay comfortably nestled into her neck."Uhm.. Carly..?" Still her voice shook and wavered, as though she didn't trust you not to turn and change your mind, to tell her to get the fuck out of your house and to never speak to you again. You looked up at her and smiled curiously, a hand trailing down her arm. "D..do you want to be.. like.. g..girlfriends?"

It was the cutest thing, watching Sam, of all people, crumble in front of you, for once being unsure and shy, scared that she might say the wrong words and ruin it all. All you did was keep smiling at her, and then lean upward, kissing her lips again, softer and quicker this time. You figured that was all you needed to say while you laced your fingers with hers and drifted off to sleep, breathing softly on her perfect neck.

--

Uhm.. . It's 1:40 AM and I've been writing this for the past two hours.. -rubs my eyes- I'd write more, but tat's a pretty cute ending.. If I kept going it might end up just being way, way too long.

Maybe I'll write a second chapter.. maybe I'll just write another oneshot that's longer. But right now, my bed misses meeee T.T

Well.. I hope I didn't torture you too badly! LAKSHFGA a beetle just attacked my computer screen.

On that note, goodnight ihopeyouliked it please leave a review reviews make me happy and make me write better and more and OH GOD THERE'S MORE OF THEM HALP ME.


End file.
